


Nightmares

by Tsianphiel



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:04:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsianphiel/pseuds/Tsianphiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She can still see them. The undernourished children clinging to their mothers in the filthy cages. </p>
<p>She can still see the horrors that other people have brought into the world. On some level, she can even understand it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

She can still see them. The undernourished children clinging to their mothers in the filthy cages. The tiled shower area, where weeks of dirt is washed off before the auctions start, the scattered Medigel packages used to reduce infections or remove sores that have accumulated over long periods of being forced to sit still in the same position. She wakes up some nights, screaming silently, unable to give voice to the howl that sits just beneath the surface. Visions of genocide are mingled with memories of horrors she'd rather have forgotten. Sometimes the thresher maw lurks in the shadows of her dreams, but a thresher maw is simple, uncomplicated. A thresher maw can never be as evil as the people who caught her on Mindoir, beat her within an inch of her life, and fitted her with a collar smelling of blood and sweat and shit. 

A thresher maw would never rain destruction with such a singular purpose as the Reapers, would not use the population against the people fighting, would not use the fact that some of these people could be recognized by their loved ones, or that one second of hesitation that inevitably spelled death for the one hesitating.

She can still see the horrors that other people have brought into the world. On some level, she can even understand it. The twisted logic that creates monsters out of normal people, deforms them into enemies with no souls. She used to do that to the Batarians. She made them into demons, so that her hatred could flow free, not impeded by thought or rationale or logic. Just seething hate to keep her going.

Then he came along, with his soft brown eyes, calloused hands and hesitant stories. And she couldn't mindlessly hate anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short ficlet I whipped up after having had a bad dream myself. First fanfic, so be gentle. And yes, it's short and it feels a bit unfinished.


End file.
